


I Still Need You

by OUATgirl



Series: Hold on [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Gay Relationship, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Idiots in Love, JUST, M/M, Oh who am I kidding, anyway, but when it hits it hits hard, enjoy, hell yeah im gonna revel in the "canon" part of that till my dying days, ish, the biggest morons in the wizarding world head over heels with each other, tiny bit of angst every now and then
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-14
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-01-30 08:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21425353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OUATgirl/pseuds/OUATgirl
Summary: Sequel to Hold OnIt's a new dawn for both Gellert and Albus, but their little world wasn't the only one to change. The attack on Hogwarts was much more than they were prepared for, and there might be a new dark lord on the rise, with events like these, can they find peace (or get the time to learn how to bake properly)?
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore & Gellert Grindelwald, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Series: Hold on [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541992
Comments: 133
Kudos: 196





	1. Mail

**Author's Note:**

> So, we're back!!!  
It's been a while, but I hope everyone is still up for the story of these two  
Nina is beta reading for me again, and she's still awesome  
I hope you enjoy

Not that Albus complained about the kisses and cuddles in the middle of the night, or the regained companionship, but as a patient, Gellert was an absolute nightmare.

The bed wasn’t comfortable (it was), the food lacked taste (it didn’t), or he was bored (alright, Albus could give him that one).

So, after ten days of non-stopping complaining, Madam Pomfrey finally got sick of him and did what Albus expected was what he wanted from the start.

Sort of.

Gellert still had to spend most of the day in bed. But it was his bed, in his quiet room, eating the food he liked. Even though the curse really did a number on him, he started walking again after some time, pacing slowly around his room, and Albus was glad to see that his poor decisions might not leave such a scar in the end.

On a calm Thursday, when Albus thought Gellert was asleep, he looked up to find him leaning against the door:

“Good morning.” 

“Technically, it’d be good afternoon”

“Whatever” He smiled. He walked into the office coming to stand behind Albus “Marking?”

“Close, class planning.”

“Hm.” He rested his head on Albus’ shoulder, looping his arms around him.

Albus didn’t even try to hide his smile. He liked this newfound, or rather, re-found intimacy. It was nice to not have boundaries. Outside, Albus’ only connection to Gellert was a good-hearted wish to see him rehabilitated. But in here… it was them against the world, and all that that entailed.

There was a small tap on the window.

Gellert planted a chaste kiss on his cheek and moved to let in a barn owl with a letter:

“Isn’t mail delivered at breakfast?”

“Supposedly.” Albus removed the envelope and he gulped when he saw the ministry seal, “Someone wanted to keep things in the dark.”

He opened the letter and Gellert came to stand and read over his shoulder.

“It’s a trial motion. They’re asking you to testify against me?!”

“No… They’re charging me of conspiring with you.”

\-----------------

Gellert skimmed his eyes over the missive. He caught only a few sentences, but they were enough to get the message across: _conspiracy, harbouring a fugitive, unlawful use of magic, obstruction of justice. _ Those bastards.

“That’s out of context. It makes it seem like you took the binding away and let me roam free, and then I used magic to hurt people. The only reason I even used magic was to save lives, and at the cost of my own safety! Where is that written.?”

Before Albus could answer, someone knocked on the door.

“Expecting someone?” Gellert asked.

“I never am. Come in.”

In came McGonagall, gripping an official-looking piece of parchment hard enough to rip it:

“Do any of you care to explain what this is? Why on Merlin’s name would I be asked to testify against both of you?”

“Ah,” said Albus, “They certainly don’t waste any time.”

“I mean, I understand his part,” she pointed at Gellert, “no offense...”

“None taken.”

“… but what do _you_ have to do with it?”

“I enabled him, apparently.” Albus spoke from behind joint fingers.

“You- you- Well, that’s just bloody stupid.”

“I’m glad we agree on something.” Gellert huffed.

“We have to do something.” She looked between the two of them, “Albus, you are the best thing that ever happened to this school, and damn me for saying this, but Grindelwald, the children like you. You two can’t leave, especially not at the same time.”

“Unfortunately, Minerva. You can’t. The ministry wants you on their side, and you can’t say no to them. I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Albus took her and in his. “Thank you for everything you did, but we need to fix this ourselves.”

She seemed to want to protest but ended up nodding.

As soon as McGonagall closed the door, Gellert propped himself on the desk and looked down at Albus, who had leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes with a frustrated sigh.

“You do realise there’s no fixing this, yes?” he warned, lips pursed.

“I’m afraid so, yes.”

“You’re not as naïve as I thought.”

“When it comes to you, I always am.” Albus’ lips curled into a small smile

Gellert jumped up, knocking down some quills in the process:

“That’s it. “

“Whatever are you talking about, Gellert?”

“Naïve. That’s it.”

Albus looked up at him:

“What?”

“Oh, come on Albus, this has nothing to do with the attack. The ministry hated when you brought me here, that “rescue” was the opportunity they wanted. There’s no way I’m walking out of this, and since you’re not exactly the ministry’s favourite person, I doubt _you_ can without significant effort, unless you tell them I played you. I tricked you into letting me walk around.”

“I doubt that will keep you out of Nurmengard.”

“No, but it’ll keep you out for sure.”

“Gellert-”

“No. I told you I wanted to make amends. I took so much from you. Either accidentally or on purpose, I spent the last forty years hurting you. And you never gave up on me. It’s my turn to give.” Gellert sat on his lap, back resting on the arm of the chair. He cupped his cheek and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was horrible.

Horrible in the way it felt like a goodbye. The kind of kiss a soldier would give if he knew he was marching to his last battle. The kind of kiss that Gellert gave when he feared the world would collapse on him at last.

They pulled apart and Gellert was close enough for Albus to see stubborn tears in his eyes:

“Just promise you’ll visit.”

Albus pulled him back to him and Gellert nestled his head on the crook of his neck. They stayed like that for a while.

Twenty years of war. Thirty more of pain. All for a few months together. That hardly seemed fair. Now, with Gellert in his arms, everything seemed so easy: they could run. Disappear from the world.

No. Albus would not visit Gellert in the ruins of his empire. He would not watch him march, bound and beaten, to the room that would one day become his tomb. Albus Dumbledore was prised as the most powerful wizard alive, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to use that power to save the man he loved.


	2. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everybody, it has been some time...  
But we're back with what I would call a slightly late Christmas present  
Once again, Nina was an enourmous help, and so was Ana, one of my bestest friends, who almost phisically held me in front of my computer and got me writing again. thank you, milady  
So, here goes, I hope you enjoy

To say the next few days were calm wasn’t such an understatement as bordering on a plain lie. Because whatever calm they experienced wasn’t the soothing peace after a storm, it was the momentary stillness within the eye of the hurricane.

On the outside, nothing changed: Albus kept teaching his classes, and Gellert wandered around in their office. Luckily nobody looked any closer, for if they did, they’d notice the small things: Albus’ classes no longer left students with that gleam in their eyes, for the man recited the book to the children with dark circles under his eyes. Gellert’s tutoring sessions were on permanent hold, and he ended up ignoring Elena when the girl knocked on the office door for an afternoon tea with the unyielding stubbornness only children possess: 

“Mr. Grindelwald, I know you’re in there. Please, open the door.”

It broke Gellert’s heart to ignore the girl, but it eventually got her to stop showing up.

Unfortunately, that small one-sided conversation was the only human interaction that Gellert had for the entire day, so after some time the silence became deafening.

He took advantage of Albus’ record player, and the fact that the librarian didn’t mind sending up books on their own, and decided to better understand magical law. The new focus was almost enough to drown out their impending doom.

Almost.

It was a cruel twist of fate. To lose it all after so little time, again. But this time it was different, he realised. Last time that he’d lost Albus, it’d been his fault, maybe not his alone, but he recognised he had a part in it. And thirty years of mourning what could have been give one a solid perspective of one’s mistakes, along with a healthy dose of sorrow and self-loathing.

And that was it. That was the difference. Because this time, Gellert wasn’t sorry, he wasn’t mourning, he was… angry. He felt like everything he’d so painstakingly conquered was being stolen from him, and he wanted someone to pay for it, painfully.

He took a deep breath and let himself fall on the chair behind Albus’ desk. A few seconds later there was a tapping sound.

Dreading another ministry owl, Gellert slowly turned to the window, only to find red feathers and beaded eyes looking up at him:

“Fawkes?”

He opened the window and the bird hopped onto his arm. Gellert stroked the feathers on Fawkes’ neck and the small bird chirped, and only then did he notice that his eyes were brimming with tears:

“It’s alright, my friend, we’ll all be well in the end, or at least, you two will.”

Fawkes didn’t sing. He rarely did, unless something truly horrible happened, but his mere presence was enough to give Gellert a fleeting sense of calm, he appreciated it immensely, however little it was. With a renewed sense of purpose, he threw himself back into work and, by the time Albus came back, he had a plan.

Good thing too, because the first thing the man did once he walked in was lean against the door and slide down to the floor with a sigh.

Gellert did the only sensible thing at that point, sliding down next to him with a bottle of fire whiskey in his hand, he leaned his head on the wooden door and looked at Albus, silently asking.

After some time, he answered:

“The ministry sent a chaperone to my class.” Albus sighed “Needless to say the children were more than uncomfortable and I essentially had a shadow all morning. A shadow with the ability to arrest me.”

Albus’ hands had been supporting his head, but one of them was snatched by Gellert as he intertwined their fingers:

“Let’s do lunch!”

Albus looked up at him:

“Lunch?” he repeated incredulous.

“Lunch. Let’s go to Hogsmeade.” Gellert answered.

“Why?”

“Because you need it, Albus.”

“Alright.” His friend relented “But we’ll have to walk. No more Apparating.”

Gellert got up and pulled the other man with him:

“We’ve arranged some new security measures to prevent any more “rescues”” Albus explained.

“Smart. Your idea?” Gellert asked with a slight smile.

Albus simply shrugged, a glint of pride breaking out through the weeks of worry and sleepless nights, and they walked to the gates.

The pub they found (something about broomsticks, Gellert didn’t really pay attention) had surprisingly good pork chops with honey, and over the meal, Gellert got Albus to calm down a bit. And then he decided to tell him his idea:

“I found a book today. A collection of scrolls by the seer Cassandra”

“Hm” Albus bit down on an apple slice, “I know that name. Wasn’t she the one no one believed in?”

“Yes, she was cursed so that nobody would believe her prophecies in life, but she still wrote a lot of them down, and some other things. I found a scroll about Seeing people.” He told his friend.

That seemed to pique Albus interest “Alright. Explain.”

“There might be a way to… tune the Sight to a specific person. To see _their_ actions in particular. I think I can try that with Riddle.”

“How would it work? “

Gellert was slightly surprised at Albus’ attitude about the whole situation but he took the chance:

“I have to touch him, somehow, I think a handshake would suffice. “

“But you’d need me to bring him to Hogwarts.”

“Ideally, yes.”

Albus rubbed his eyes, Gellert could see the gears turning in his head, slowly measuring all the ways that could go wrong, there were a lot, Gellert had spent the whole morning running the same math. Slowly, his face twisted into an expression that Gellert had learned to read as “this is a spectacularly bad idea, but it’s the only one we have right now”.

“He wanted my old job when he graduated.” Albus said slowly, still thinking.

“Really, I never took Riddle for a defence teacher.” Gellert couldn’t help but being surprised.

“I believe it was more about staying in Hogwarts. Nevertheless, I think I could invite him for an interview.”

\-----------------------------

The walk back was restless, they were both aware of everything around them, they knew what would come their way and they knew just how bad it could go. And what awaited them in their office only worked to aggravate their bad mood.

Newt’s head floated in the fireplace, his face one of worry.

“Scamander?” Gellert was never really thrilled to see the boy, but since the “rescue” he’d become slightly more bearable.

“Hello. Prof- Albus, we have a problem.”

They sat on the rug.

“It’s about your hearing, I got an owl. The Ministry wants me to testify.”

“You’re half-way across the world, Newt, they have no business in what you do.”

“They said…they said I ought to cooperate, given that my family has a prominent position in the ministry. I think they’re threatening Theseus and Tina. I don’t know what to do. I-”

“Do it.” Gellert interrupted.

“They threatened those you love. It’s a foul play but there’s nothing you can do about it, do what they say, we’ll find a way to get you out of this.” he continued.

“I-” Scamander looked at Albus, who gave him a short nod, “Alright, I’ll return to London as soon as I can, I’ll tell you when I have more news.”

His face dissolved into the ashes again and Albus turned to Gellert:

“I don’t like this.”

“I know, Liebling, but it’s all we have.”

“Are you sure about this”

_No_

“Yes”

_But I’ll do it for you, I’ll do anything for you._

“I’m sure it will be alright.”


	3. Good Luck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there, we're back at it with one more chapter  
I hope you enjoy it, tell me in the comments if you did  
Once again, thank you to Nina for being an amazing beta reader  
And the biggest thank you to all of those who have been leaving comments and kudos, you guys make my day

Scamander turned out to be rather useful. Every few days they received an owl with news on the ministry’s latest angle. Newt seemed to be willing to overlook some of Gellert’s old actions in favour of keeping Albus out of jail, and for now, that was more than useful.

With the steady influx of new information and a lot of acting from their part, the plan seemed to be working out. The ministry chaperone left Albus’ classes alone, and eventually left the school grounds entirely, at which point Gellert ran out of proper excuses to lock himself in isolation.

And once he did get out, there seemed to be an understanding. People didn’t like him, obviously, but there were no flinches when he walked in the halls, and no muttered insults. There was a sort of resigned silence. It was an improvement.

\-------------------

Albus’ life was getting back on track.

Slowly, very slowly, things went as back to normal as they could. The dark cloud over their heads was permanent and ever announcing itself through letters and the occasional comment, but they worked as hard as they could to make some sunshine pierce through.

There was an especially sunny morning.

It had been a Saturday. They’d been sleeping in Gellert’s room for the past few days, but Albus’ things were still in his own room, which wasn’t that much of a nuisance. He’d adopted the small ritual of getting up and getting dressed before asking for some breakfast, all while Gellert was asleep.

That day though, he’d turned around, still fixing his robes, to find the man wide awake, leaning against the doorframe. Gellert liked to lean, Albus could never really complain about it.

He slowly made his way towards Albus, parading himself quite obviously. With a small peck on his lips, Gellert took a seat on the piano, well, it was more of a sprawl than a seat, but again, Albus couldn’t complain.

Albus adjusted his collar, looking at Gellert, trying to guess his next move. For now, the man seemed contempt in simply looking around the room. His gaze finally stopped roaming.

He pointed at a small frame on his bedside table, in it a sketch of Albus, quite calmly playing the piano. The memory of that day brought a smile to his lips.

"You had it framed?" Gellert smiled back and got up.

"It is one of my favourite renderings of mysel-"

Gellert swallowed the rest of the sentence with a kiss. Different from most of their kisses lately. Slow, but somehow fiery, not urgent, but intense enough to make Albus shiver. Gellert pushed him back until his knees hit the bed and he was forced to sit down. Albus expected Gellert to push him back but the man simply straddled his lap and they kept kissing, for hours it seemed.

And it was glorious.

Certainly not the most vigorous thing they'd ever done, but as exciting, no doubt. It felt right to have Gellert's hands all over his face, his neck, tangled in his hair. To kiss every piece of skin visible and have the kisses replayed to him (occasionally with small nibbles in the mix)

Gellert took a sharp breath when he kissed him right beneath his ear, and Albus grew bolder, giving him a small bite on his earlobe and earning a tug on his hair

Gellert brought their mouths back together and Albus got a glance at his eyes. The same colour in both. Black. The pupils blown wide, swallowing whatever colour they could find. Gellert was the personification of desire, and Merlin, he was gorgeous.

He slowly pushed Albus back on the bed and grinned

Albus pulled him down with him.

A very good morning indeed, Albus concluded.

But that had been the weekend, now, he had classes to teach and some new problems to sort through. Mainly; How does one begin to invite one’s least favourite student for a job interview while being that student’s least favourite teacher.

The answer? One doesn’t.

One asks another former student to do it for one’s self.

And that is precisely what Albus did.

And obviously he asked Minerva, who obviously insisted on knowing the entire plan, and whose answer was, rather obviously:

“That is one of the worst ideas I have heard in my life. And you two blithering idiots will still manage to make it worse.”

She then seemed to realise who she was talking to, and tried to take it back but

Albus simply told her she was right.

She closed her mouth, and the amount of desperation put into this plan of theirs slowly dawned on her.

“I’ll try my best, professor.”

And so, Artemis, a small grey owl, flew into the afternoon warmth carrying what might just be the most important letter in all the wizarding world.

\-------------------

Tuesday morning brought the kind of weather only early spring days can. The kind of patchy sunlight that creeps through the windows to wake you up suddenly. Gellert did not wake up with the sun.

He woke up with feather light kisses peppered on his shoulders and fingers tracing long swirls on his side.

Slowly turning around, he found Albus smiling down at him, his blue eyes like the frozen stillness of a pond in a small village, the ones with life bubbling just under the ever-crystal-clear surface.

Gellert would gladly get lost in those eyes for the rest of his life.

But he couldn’t, could he?

Reality hit him like the cruciatus curse.

He’d never see those blue eyes again, he’d forever lose the sight of auburn hair and small smiles, he’d never hear his favourite stifled laughs, satisfied sighs, and surprised gasps.

Albus would be taken away from him until even the faintest memories faded.

“Gellert? What is it?”

He’d barely noticed but he was holding onto Albus for dear life, tears threatening to roll down his face, currently trapped in his eyelashes.

“I…I love you.”

Albus froze.

It was new. He’d never said it before, and he’d never heard it from Albus. In Godric’s Hollow it wasn’t safe to say it, and now it wasn’t much safer. It had always been implied, but he refused to be sent away to a rotting cell without seeing what Albus’ reaction would be.

It was predictable to a point.

Albus looked at him intently for a few seconds, pulled him in for a kiss, and then he whispered it back.

And that’s when it happened.

Gellert never thought three words could be so complicated.

It was bliss and damnation all at once. He felt safe and terrified. And he wanted to run and to never leave that room.

He settled for finding out the sudden pain in his chest, spreading out from his collarbone. In under a second he felt his entire chest on fire, bright white flashes burst behind his eyelids.

Under his shirt, however, there were no new marks. In fact, the twirling lines that scarred his skin since the “rescue” seemed…faded. Which was, according to everyone around him, impossible. And yet…

After he assured Albus that he was alright (not an easy task), they had a calm breakfast. Or it was calm, until a letter was slid under the office door.

An opened letter addressed to Minerva, with a note on top of it.

GOOD LUCK

Albus read the letter

“Tom Riddle has agreed to come for an interview, ten days from now.”

Gellert twirled the note in his hand.

_Good Luck_

They’d need it, for sure


	4. Changes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, we're back again  
Once again, a huge thank you to Nina   
And the most enormous thank you to all of you who leave such lovely comments and kudos, you guys leave a smile on my face every time I get a notification   
I hope you enjoy <3

It didn’t really hit him until Minerva rushed into the library, ignoring the librarian's angry _hush_.

She smiled politely at the students at the table and pulled Gellert aside, handing him a letter. It had the ministry seal and the mere sight of it made him nauseous. He skimmed the letter, but Minerva gave him the general picture:

“Friday, eight o’clock in the morning. I was asked to come to the ministry in my quality as a witness. Something tells me you won’t get the privilege of a note.”

“No, the trial can’t be on Friday, we’re not ready, it’s not-”

“It’s not the trial. It’s a preliminary hearing. I don’t really know how it works, but you can come back afterwards. You can still try to stop Riddle.”

Gellert stopped:

“He told you.”

“I made him. If I was addressing Riddle, it might as well be for a worthy cause. My point is, you have to be more discreet. The ministry might try to catch you off guard; in which case it would be a clever idea for you both, Albus and you, to at least be in separate beds.”

Gellert could actually feel the colour draining from his face. There was not a chance that Albus told her _that_.

“Please, Grindelwald, I’m not blind. And for the record, I think he could a lot better, or maybe not, if I understood the plan correctly. The point is, be careful.”

Gellert simply nodded, and she hurried out of the library

When he returned to the table, the students seemed to be fine. Ariel, a fifth year who’d recently joined their small circle was helping Thomas with a transfiguration assignment. They’d held their hair up with a quill that Gellert quickly realised was his own, but since they were jumping between that work, a potions essay that Elena was trying to write, and Charlotte’s (a French third year student who’d transferred from Beauxbatons and didn’t know much English, yet) with her muggle studies essay: “Describe the main function of a telephone”, he thought that might not be the most important thing at the moment.

Ariel tried to slowly explain her the answer, but ended up sighing at the girl’s confusion.

Gellert translated the instructions and turned to Ariel.

“I… need a favour.”

Ariel looked at him. They were one of the Hufflepuff head students and had taken some time to join the group for obvious reasons, but the exams were closing in, and since the “rescue”, Thomas had been putting in a good word with them. Faithful to their house motto, Ariel had seen fit to give Gellert a chance to prove himself.

He’d been more than grateful.

The mornings were slow, but every now and then there were so many students needing help, that older students who could help them were incredibly useful.

Still, Ariel didn’t trust him. Gellert couldn’t really blame them.

“What is it?”, they asked, still a little warily.

“I need you to help them for a bit, I have something to fix.” Gellert answered.

“Does it have anything to do with what Minerva came to say?”

“Yes. But I do believe she’s Professor McGonagall to you.”, he pointed out.

“We played quidditch against each other not even two years ago, she’s Minerva to me.”

“Good point.” He smiled

Ariel gave him a small smile in return. They looked back at the table where the younger students and then to the clock on the wall:

“I have a date in Hogsmeade in two hours. You have one hour until I’m out of here.”

Gellert thanked her and ran to the office.

He walked in to find Albus in his armchair, a ball of wool in his lap, focused on nothing in particular, his hands working the needles mindlessly

“Hello Albus. Didn’t you have class today?”

“I excused myself.”

“Are you…knitting?”

“I am.” he didn’t look up. “I needed to calm down and my hands were shaking too much for the piano. Besides if I don’t keep myself occupied, I might punch you.”

“You-What? Why?” Gellert asked, taken aback.

“Why? Because “oh, we’ll be alright, Albus. What’s the worst thing that can happen, Albus? It can’t fail, Albus.” Well, take a guess Gellert, it failed!”

When Albus looked at him, his jaw was clenched, his breathing uneven.

“Albus, what on Merlin’s name happened?”

“The ministry altered the sentence. No more life in prison.”

“What?”

“They sentenced us to death.”

“You mean they sentenced me. If the plan works, you’ll be back here in no time, Liebling. Everything else is meaningless.”

He kneeled by Albus and took his hands:

“You will be alright.”

Gellert had seen it coming, in a way. His whole life, he’d been waiting for death. He knew it would come one day, and he was ready for it, if it benefitted the greater good. And at this point, the greater good meant Albus’ safety.

Albus removed his hands:

“Alright? Gellert, it’s a Dementor’s kiss. Do you know what that means?”

“I-“

“It means that even if you don’t die, I’ll be sitting there watching that…that thing taking away your soul. You’ll be as alive as a weed by the end of it. So no, I won’t be alright.”

“We’re expected in the ministry on Friday.”

“What? Gellert did you hear what I said?”

He had. He didn’t care. He couldn’t care. He couldn’t let that selfish part of him screaming bloody murder have the lead in his mind. If he couldn’t have his life, he’d have a proper legacy.

“They’ll most likely send officials to collect us a-”

“At eight o’clock. I know. But Gellert, this changes things.”

“This changes nothing. The Riddle boy is still coming in a few days, I’ll still see him. And you’ll still be able to stop him.”

“I won’t let it happen.” Albus said sharply.

“You won’t have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no notion of gender fluidity and singular "them" in the 40s you say? I don't care, this chapter is brought to you by : a personal fuck you to jk Rowling for being a terf  
Also, I really liked Ariel, and I might give them a bigger part in the future, tell me your thoughts


	5. The enterview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, guess who got inspired and wrote a chapter twice as long as usual  
yeah.  
I really enjoyed writing this and me and Nina are very happy with how itturned out, so I hope you love it aswell <3  
Also, I'm sorry in advance.

Friday did come. And quite predictably, headmaster Dippet was more than happy to let in the aurors who paraded both Albus and Gellert in restraints out of the castle.

Soon enough, Albus was sitting down in a small bench as Gellert was interrogated.

_And so, the show begins._

The auror that conducted the interview was none other than Travers.

When Gellert was brought in and sat in the centre of the room. Albus almost didn’t believe his eyes.

He had a way about him. Gellert sat in the accused’s seat as if it was the most comfortable sofa, wearing the handcuffs as complicated cufflinks, and even his posture. He behaved as if he was proud to be there.

And that only while he was silent.

When he started talking, Albus’ jaw dropped. It helped with their plan, of course, the fact that he acted as if he’d never heard any of this. Because there was being a silver tongue, there was warping the truth to fit one’s purpose, there was leading people to do your bidding, and then there was this.

From the moment Travers made the unfortunate decision of asking Gellert “What happened in the past few months?” the man took the lead, and Albus knew they’d either win this case or never walk out of that room alive.

“So, what you’re saying, is that you managed to manipulate the wizard that defeated you in a duel to do your bidding.”

“Quite. It wasn’t that hard. You see, Albus here has a very easily exploitable flaw, he sees the best in people, even when there’s nothing to see. From then on, it’s a simple matter of dosage. A little bit of trust here, some pretence of regret there. It helps if you bring up happy times and how much you’re sorry that they ended. Things like that.”

Albus felt his stomach turn. He got dizzy for a second and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair. Gellert’s eyes flickered to him and back to his inquirer.

Albus closed his eyes. They’d gone over this.

After the news had arrived and they had come to terms with it, they had sat together, and Gellert had told him:

“I will lie. I will lie well, Albus. I’ll have to. But you mustn’t believe it. You have to know that this is real.” He’d taken his hands then, kissing every knuckle, “All of it, this is the truth. I love you, I have loved you since the first time I saw you, before the world caught up to us, and I will always love you, regardless of what it does to us now. Promise me you’ll never forget that.”

He’d known then. He’d known that he wasn’t just talking about the hearing, about the lies. He was talking about his life. He was making sure nobody else stained Albus’ memory of him after he was gone.

The night before the hearing they had each gone to their room.

Albus hadn’t slept for more than an hour.

Albus tuned out the rest of the interrogation, and then he was being pulled to the centre of the room.

He thanked every star in the sky that they didn’t make him lie. His questions were based on Gellert’s earlier answers, and mostly revolved around the fact that he believed Gellert was truly on his way to good.

At that point, everything was starting to get real. The wisps of normalcy were being chased away, and the dark cloud now had lightning, ready to strike both of them down if they made one wrong move.

They finally let them go, separately of course. Albus could barely breathe when he got to his office. He sat in his room, not moving while the light changed around the room for one, two, three hours.

He didn’t notice Gellert walking in. Only when the bed dipped a bit next to him did he raise his head from between his hands.

Gellert raised an arm to hug him.

Albus flinched.

The hurt in Gellert’s eyes was like a stab to the heart.

“I- I’m sorry, I-”

“No, I understand, Albus.” Gellert lowered his arm, “It was a complicated day.”

“It’s just…you were incredibly convincing.” Albus felt himself running his hands across his face, though he couldn’t recall the conscious decision of doing so.

“I know, but I need you to remember what I said, Liebling, please. I can’t go through with this if you don’t remember that i-”

“It isn’t real. None of it. I know.”

“Good.” Gellert took Albus’ hand in his and Albus pulled him in for a kiss.

They stayed like that for some time. Eventually they just sat together in Albus’ bed, silent, taking in each other’s presence. It wasn’t nice. But it was all they could hope for at this point.

The rest of the day went by Albus like it wasn’t his own. Someone else ate lunch. Someone else met with the faculty for midterm evaluations, someone else lay in his bed that evening. That last part might’ve been good though. At least he could say that it was someone else’s the sudden affinity he had for the shard of broken glass from an old mirror that shone from the bin in the corner.

\----------------

Against Gellert’s most certain bets, morning rose. Ah, so the rest of the world hadn’t perished the day before, just him. The feeling of self-loathing and disgust from the day before hadn’t faded over-night. It had begun showing up after he decided what he’d say.

A part of him constantly repeating _“you can’t”_ from the moment the thought popped into his head, but it made sense.

The only way for everyone to believe was if Albus was surprised as well, and that implied playing dirty, it implied telling things nobody knew, and do it with a blank face. As long as he was cold and unemotional, Albus would be safe.

But it wasn’t easy to be blank faced when every word was the slash of a dagger. When every time he looked over to Albus, he saw the man almost believing his words, slowly slipping away from him, slowly going back to before, to the night after they fought for the very first time. Questioning everything.

But nothing was ever easy with the two of them.

Gellert took a few deep breaths before he entered the office:

“Good morning, Liebling.”

“Good morning, Gellert.”

The man passed him with a small peck on the lips and a stack of books he laid in his arms.

“Uhm, what…what are all these?”

“These are our chance, my dear. You say there’s a chance you can prove Riddle is dangerous, maybe if you do that, they’ll pardon you.”

Gellert sighed. He put down the books and grabbed Albus, he lifted his chin and took a good look at him.

They had a one-year difference. Yet everyone seemed to think Gellert was a lot older. Albus had once told him it was the confidence he had, as if he knew more of life. Now Albus looked decades older. He had a feverish gleam in his eyes, and the look of a desperate man. The signs of a sleepless night were more than obvious. Gellert took him to sit near the fireplace:

“Albus, please. You know how this will end. Make your peace with it. I have.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to.”

“But-”

“Please. If for nothing else, for me. I can only do this if you let me, Liebling. Let me go.”

“After all this time, I don’t think I can.”

Gellert’s soothing answer was trapped in his throat. Thankfully, they were interrupted by none other than Minerva, who knocked on the door:

“Hurry up, we need to talk.”

They composed themselves and opened the door.

The next few minutes were a haze of fast speaking Scottish and faster altering mindsets. Albus was safe. All the witnesses were being asked for signs of manipulation on Gellert’s part. At least that.

“So, that front is going well, now we just need the Riddle boy.”

Soon enough the Riddle boy came and the sunny afternoon grew slightly colder, funnily enough.

As they had arranged, Albus would talk to the boy about a potential open post for him all the while advising him to keep his current employment, and they’d cross paths when Riddle was leaving.

The ritual itself was more of a concentration exercise, and Gellert mastered it relatively fast. Afterwards, he made his way to the office.

He opened the door as Albus guided Riddle out of the room. Riddle’s eyes sparked with interest when he saw him.

“Mr. Grindelwald, I take it. I was afraid I’d miss you.” Tom said smoothly.

“I’m afraid you might have to, I’m busy at the moment, Mr…”

“Riddle. Tom Riddle.”

Riddle extended his hand. This was it.

“A pleasure, Mr. Riddle.” He shook the young man’s hand and a flurry of colour came into his vision.

He quickly bid his farewell to Albus and Riddle and hurried inside the office. He ran to the bathroom and managed to get there just in time for his lunch to leave his stomach.

He scrunched his eyes shut, but the images flashed almost too fast for him to grasp anything.

Almost.

An old house on a hill. A sick woman and a grim orphanage. A cave by the water. Albus. Albus? Sitting in a muggle building looking at electric green eyes, wary. The same green eyes staring back from an older face as a body was carried down the stairs. A question in a potions classroom. A monster and a diary.

Things got foggy, and faster.

A family ring and a scared man. A young girl’s ghost and a diadem. A dark shop, an ornate cup, and a locket far too heavy for its size. A snake that he would recognize anywhere, and countless faceless followers.

And a boy in a town Gellert knew far too well. A boy and his parents. They’d be a set-back but not his downfall. Slowly, he’d rise again. He’d kill again. And…

Gellert froze. Albus was looking at him, older, sadder. And he was surrounded by a green light, falling from a tower in deafening silence.

Someone grabbed him.

“Gellert? Darling, look at me, open your eyes.”

He did. Albus knelt by him, gripping his shoulders, eyes wide.

“I’m- I’m-“ _fine _ he wanted to say, but his lungs didn’t really want to let him speak, or breathe for that matter.

Albus helped him up and they sat by the end of the bed.

Gellert cleared his throat and almost gagged, he waited for his head to stop spinning:

“Where’s the boy.”

“I sent him away. Well, I sent him to Minerva. I might be forever in her debt.”

“But why?”

“You should’ve seen your face when you left. You looked like you’d seen a ghost.

Gellerts head snapped up. Albus was staring at him, and those eyes…

The eyes from his vision were not that different. Sorrowful, and heavy, and older, but he wasn’t wrong. Seeing Albus like that, it knotted his stomach.

“Gellert, what is it?”

“I can’t be convicted.”

“What?”

“We’re going to do this together.”

“Well, not that I don’t love your change of mind, but why? What did you see?”

“I- I can’t”

“Darling, what is it that scared you so much? I-“

“He’s going to kill you, Albus!”


	6. The Plan(s)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I late for this, yes, yes I am  
Sorry  
Real life got in the way, with tests, presentations, and homework, I couldn't really breathe  
But here it is  
I am so proud of this one, and Nina added some character to it too, so I hope you enjoy it

There is an interesting phenomenon that happens at certain times: Usually, in times of distress, people who are used to fighting alone don’t plan one way out. They pick a main strategy, sure, but there’s usually an entire alphabet of them to back the first one up. It’s something of a reflex for people who are used to manipulating the world around them.  
And Albus and Gellert considered themselves excellent manipulators.  
The problem is, they were so used to it that they couldn’t stop.  
The result? They were both unaware of their wildly different plans.  
Albus’ plan hadn’t changed much. And truth be told, neither had Gellert’s  
At the present moment, however, Gellert was too busy to work on it: he’d spent the last week drawing. He’d never thought it could be so draining. For years he’d used it as a way to escape his Sight. To focus on every small details of the now instead of the blurry if’s of tomorrow.  
Now, his bed was covered in sketches of strange objects, stranger masks and hoods, and a face. There was something about it: the face of a small boy. Something on his forehead, that Gellert had been going back to for days and still couldn’t get right. He knew the boy would be important, but he also knew that by the time he became important, it would be too late.  
Albus’ voice spoke in the back of his head, the only thing he heard him say these days: _slow down_  
His eyes hurt, so Gellert listened. He lied down on his bed and started putting some thought into is plan.  
He’d never actually seen a Dementor, and asking Albus was completely out of the question, and Minerva had so much trouble lying to Albus that Gellert might as well tell him himself.  
Slowly, bit by bit, a little more every hour, a very stupid idea crept into his mind. Because, at their core, Dementors were nothing more than magical creatures. And as hard as Gellert thought, there was nobody, not a soul in the whole wizarding world who knew magical creatures like Newt Scamander.  
Gellert walked to his desk and wrote the most painful letter of his life. There was something fundamentally wrong about him asking Scamander, of all people, for help.  
Alas, desperate times.  
……………….  
Things were going rather swiftly on Albus’ end. Sort of.  
His plan was simple: clear Gellert of all charges. The way to get there, not so much. He wasn’t a complete idiot (though he was aware he had his moments), he knew there was a slim chance at success, especially if the defence came from him, but he had an idea. If the whole point of this was to convince the court that Gellert did more good alive than dead, the way to do it wasn’t trough sympathy, he had to play with their fear, and he had to do it carefully.  
He had to make them fear the last twenty years happening again without reminding them that the man responsible for said twenty years was in front of them asking for forgiveness.  
Albus sighed.  
_Damnit!_  
His small panic attack was interrupted by Ariel apologising for bumping into his table. It said a lot that he didn’t remember he had a table to begin with. The small corner of the restricted section of the library came back into focus, and he turned to his student, who apparently asked him a question:  
“Um, I’m sorry, what?”  
“I asked if you were okay, professor, you’re awfully pale.”  
“I’m alright, M- Graves, don’t worry.”  
His student didn’t look convinced: “Are you sure?”  
“Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine.”  
Ariel simply nodded and turned to the bookcase.  
“Graves, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here?”  
“I need to check a book.”  
“In the restricted section?”  
Ariel took a small note from their notebook and set it in front of Albus: there, in dark ink, was an authorisation for one Ariel Graves to have access to the restricted section to check “Secrets of the Darkest Art”  
They clearly noticed Albus’ sudden shift of expression.  
It wasn’t Ariel’s fault, and they most likely didn’t know it, but the memory of another ambitious student seeking out that same book made him grip it from the table where he’d been looking at it just minutes earlier.  
“It’s for a class project.” They stammered “I’m studying the way to resist the effects of the cruciatus curse.”  
Ariel’s candid explanation calmed him a bit:  
“Take a seat, Graves. Check the book, I won’t bother you. In fact, I’ll be out of here in a bit.”  
They sat and took the book from Albus’ hands , almost fearfully.  
After some time, Ariel cleared their throat. Albus looked up.   
They seemed to be gathering up the courage to say something, and as they pushed the book back towards him and got up, they finally spoke:  
“I grew up scared of that man. Most of us did. Now, he’s walking free in the halls, that doesn’t sound right in my head. However, whatever the ministry says about that day the truth is that if it wasn’t for Grindelwald, those kids wouldn’t have lived.” They took a deep breath before continuing “So, um... I guess what I’m saying is... Whatever your doing, it’s not a mistake. There’s something there, most of us think so. So, um, good luck.”  
..........  
The days passed slowly, one, two, three, and Gellert had no answer from Scamander, because of course he didn’t. After getting tired of waiting, he got out of his room and headed for the library, Albus was in class, so he wouldn’t be disturbed until dinner, might as well give the reading another try.   
As he rounded the corner to the next hall he almost bumped into someone.   
“Grindelwald.”  
“Scamander, I take it you got my letter then.”, he answered flatly, ignoring his hopeful heart.  
“I did, though that’s not why im here, Minerva Mcgonnagall invited me for tea. Apparently im not the only one with reservations about where this trial is going.” Scamander explained, avoiding eye contact.  
“it's not going anywhere not for Albus at least”   
“How so?“, his former enemy lifted an eyebrow.  
“We… had a plan, it worked. Albus will no longer be facing charges, or better said, he’ll be found not guilty of all of them, we managed to convince the ministry that I manipulated him”  
“Which you didn’t.”  
“No, Scamander, for the hundredth time, I didn’t. “  
“Hm.” For the first time the other man looked up. Determined, he met Gellerts eyes: “I was on my way back, but I guess I can stay here for a bit longer. So, dementors, you said. “  
“Yes”  
“Well, let’s get to work then.”  
It didn’t take long, and if it did anything was confirming Gellert fears: the only way to fight off a dementor required a wand.   
It also required something that Gellert wasn’t sure he had anymore. It required a happy memory, but all his happy memories were tainted by something.   
He couldn’t think of his summer with Albus without remembering their first duel, he couldn’t think of his rise to power without thinking of how much better it would have been had Albus been by his side, and even the last few months had been tainted by the impending end, first of his freedom, now of his life.  
He thought for a bit. Maybe he had to do things differently. Maybe he had to think like he used to. For the greater good. 


	7. The Ministry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, we're back!!!  
Our boys have once again returned, and I'm glad to see that everyone's enjoying their journey as much as I am   
All of you are amazing, thank you so much for all the kind words in the comments

Albus had a knot in his stomach. He’d had a knot in his stomach for about two weeks now. It had started upon the arrival of an official pardon.

Delivered ceremoniously at breakfast, it was written in marked paper, sealed with the official seal of the ministry, and inside held both the best and worst news he could’ve asked for:

He was cleared of all charges, and no longer under investigation.

He was also dispensed of all further hearings and trials regarding Gellert’s case.

Albus hadn’t finished his breakfast. In fact, he had eaten very little that day. Or any day since.

But on some days, it got worse. On some days, Minerva showed up in the beginning his class unannounced and eventually took over the lecture, on some days, none of the students knocked on his door for help, instead, the usual group stopped by with food because Minerva asked them to, before she left. Those were the days of the hearings.

Gellert was still confined to hogwarts, for some reason, and so he came back at the end of those days. Albus suspected it was some method of unofficial punishment, a torture of sorts, for both of them. But at least, Gellert came back.

Until he didn’t.

Instead of the familiar sound of a door being unlocked and a bottle being opened by the fire, Albus was called to the office by an insistant knock.

He opened the door slightly to find Minerva on the other side, but the door was pushed completely open by the man who accompanied her.

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are hereby summoned to assist the conviction of accused number 2141989, one Gellert Grindelwald on the next 21st day of April. Further instructions will arrive shortly.”

The man said nothing else and left. Albus clenched his jaw.

“I’m sorry, Albus.” Was all Minerva could get out.

Albus didn’t speak. He nodded at her and closed the door.

\-------------------------------

There was something ridiculous about all the spectacle around his execution. If Gellert wasn’t so disgusted with it, he might find it funny. But he was, so he didn’t.

His cell was tiny, and the only window had been sealed shut, so Gellert kept time by his meals.

That’s why he knew the 21st had arrive before anyone told him.

That’s why he sat, as dignified as he could, and waited for the door to open.

That’s why he walked into the room with his back straight and his shoulders back.

And why he almost broke down when he saw Albus.

Albus wasn’t alright. He hadn’t slept in days, that much was evident, and Gellert was sure he was thinner. They weren’t that different, as it happened, they had both been held prisoners, the difference was, Gellert’s jailors had done it admittedly.

However miserable he felt while being held to chair, it was nothing compared to when the _thing _entered. Gellert was suddenly very cold, and had a sinking feeling of despair, Fitting, he thought, he _was_ about to die after all.

He closed his eyes. It was the only comfort he was allowed, to not look the beast in the eyes. Unfortunately, instead of the soothing darkness behind his eyelids, he saw _her_.

It wasn’t a surprise. In his time incarcerated he’d had long to think, and he’d come to the conclusion that his worst memory was that afternoon, that summer, so long ago.

And there she was, blue eyes wide, expressionless, her hair like a halo around her head, as if to hammer in her innocence, and the injustice of the situation.

And then something happened.

Those wide eyes became lively and crinkled as she laughed at the purple butterflies around her. The very beginning of the summer, when Gellert had tried to make her smile. Another day, a lazy afternoon when she decided Albus desperately needed a braid, her fingers weaving flowers into auburn hair, those eyes trained on the slippery strands. A warm night when they’d all stayed up to look at the stars, one of the few where all four of them got along, and Albus had read Ariana’s favourite story: _the fountain of fair fortune_

It was Gellert’s copy of _The tales of Beedle the Bard_, the one he and Albus had poured over for hours in pursuit of the hallows. It was weird to see it used for something so pure, so normal, so… _happy._

Gellert opened his eyes, it wasn’t a conscious choice, he just did. There was a strange feeling in his chest and the whole room glowed. It took him a bit to recognize _he’d done that_. A wave of energy exploded from him and swept the room, and the dementor flew away. Everyone ducked behind their benches just as Gellert realised he was no longer bound in place. He grabbed the wand near the unconscious ministry official and Apparated out of there, never seeing the glowing white phoenix that followed him.

\---------------------------

Gellert might’ve not seen his own patronus, but Albus certainly did. As the audience hurried to see what had happened, he sneaked out of the room.

Someone grabbed his arm:

“Did you do that?”

He turned around. Minerva pulled him around the corner, checking to see if someone followed them.

“Albus! Answer me, you could get arrested for stopping an execution, did yo-”

“It wasn’t me. Gellert was the one to cast the patronus.”

“But it was a phoeni-Oh. I see.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, let’s get out of here. Let’s go home.”

The next day, a barn owl delivered Albus his Daily Prophet:

**GELLERT GRINDELWALD ESCAPES EXECUTION. WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN.**

The headline was followed by an image of the moment when a wave of light had erupted from Gellert, driving the dementor in the direction of the photographer.

Albus couldn’t help to smile a bit behind his pumpkin juice.


	8. Running Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as it turns out I'm not dead  
This was a pretty big hiatus but quarantine stuff got in my head and it got weird  
BUT I'm back!!!  
This chapter is dedicated to my friends  
To Ana, because she is kinda the one who passive aggressively pushed me to get back to writing (in the best way possible)  
To Nina, because she needs a big reminder that Fanfic is Valid af and we are no less valid writers for writing it.  
And to anyone who's been leaving comments and kudos, because every time I got the notifications it pushed my creativity a little more, you guys are awesome

Gellert screamed and fell to his knees. In the haste of running away, he’d Spliced his leg, and Merlin, it hurt.

He looked around: he was in a small clearing, with barren trees that had dew drops for leaves.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself:

“Accio Murtlap essence”

It was a long shot, right now he didn’t even recognise his surroundings, he had no idea if he was near anywhere magical, but before he could resign himself to have to walk on a bleeding leg, a small vial came flying to his hand.

His wound sizzled and burned with every drop, and Gellert had to clench his jaw to keep from screaming.

When he could walk again, he started to look around properly, and he realized he knew where he was, he’d been there before. Muscle memory guided him through a trail he’d run through a long time ago, during a summer night, the kind that suffocate, when the clouds were low and he could smell the static in the air, but when there were no raindrops to hide his tears.

The woods ended near a short stone wall, on one of its corners was a battered old wooden gate, that really only kept out someone who was polite and respected the concept of a gate’s function. It squeaked when he pushed it open.

“Oh, Gellert, my dear , You shouldn’t have come, they’ll find you here.”

“Tante” Gellert smiled. He couldn’t not smile. Not at the woman who’d taken him in when all his other family had turned their backs on him, who’d found him after the duel and given him a bag of food and a kind word because she knew him well enough to know that anything else wouldn’t work. Not to the woman who, almost fifty years later, got up out of her rocking chair and ushered him inside.

On the table in the sitting room was a copy of the Daily Prophet.

“They’ll look for you here first. You can’t stay.”

“Then why did you invite me in?”

“I have some decency, Gellert! I’m not about to leave my little nephew out in the cold.”

“I’m not a boy anymore, tante.”

“And yet, when you were in danger you ran back home.”

Gellert chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t had much time to think about where to go, and his mind had drifter to the last place where he’d felt safe.

“Did you really cast a Patronus charm without a wand?”

Gellert smiled, his back a little straighter, it was not an easy feat.

“Very well, I’m proud.”

Before he could answer, Bathilda continued:

“But you must leave now. Find somewhere safe, somewhere nobody could guess you’d go. Not even Albus.”

“You don’t really think Albus would…No! No, he wouldn’t help them.”

“Not willingly. He never did give up on you. And from his letters he’d rather die before he told them anything. The problem is how far they’re willing to go for that information.”

“Merlin, I didn’t even consider that,” Gellert slumped onto the armchair, “hold on, letters?”

“Oh, yes!” she smiled “Albus insisted on telling me what really happened during the attack. And it helped to have someone to talk to while you healed.”

“I didn’t- he never told me about that.”

“I asked him not to. You are very particular about sentiment. And we both learned a thing or two about you” she chuckled.

“I’m not sure if that’s good, but I’ll worry about it later.” He got up, “What’s the most remote place you can remember?”

“Me? Oh, I’m just an old hag. I haven’t seen my nephew in ages.” She said with a trembling voice, turning to go back to her rocking chair with steps a lot frailer than they had any need to be. By the door she turned back to him with a glint in her eye:

“I made biscuits. Stay until sundown to get everything ready if you need to. I wouldn’t know. I didn’t see you.”

The biscuits found their way into one of his old bags, along with some books and a generous helping of vials. He placed the Murtlap essence back on its place and left through a window in the sitting room- better not use the front door.

Looking up, he saw a path of vines leading up to a barred window in the next house over. The wooden planks were rotten, nearly falling off, and Gellert decided to do something even he knew to be incredibly stupid.

Like he had so many years ago (although with significantly less agility this time), he grabbed the vines and propped himself on the windowsill.

The wood gave away easily, and Gellert forced the lock open.

The floorboards sank lightly when he landed, and oh, had this been a bad idea.

The house had too many memories. And they weren’t bad. Not all of them, anyway. But they were a stark reminder that what had been could never be again. Albus’ room was definitely not a good place to be in. So, he left. He walked across the hallway and sighed when he went down the stairs.

The house was too silent. He’d never seen it silent before. Even in the late nights, there was always something happening. Now it was…

It was dead. Abandoned. Forgotten. And completely silent.

No. Not completely. As he moved through the kitchen, a sound grew louder. Someone was humming.

He followed the sound to a small portrait, hidden under a dusty book. He lifted it out of its place and almost screamed.

A small blond girl was in that portrait, braiding violets in her own hair, and humming.

“Ariana.”

The girl turned to look at him. She fell silent and tilted her head. Ariana never spoke to strangers. Well, she had always spoken to him, but that was a long time ago. He realised she probably didn’t recognise him.

“Ariana, it’s me, it’s Gellert. Do you remember me?”

“You’re not Gellert. You’re old.”

“Well, I wasn’t, but it’s been a long time. I’m still me.”

“I don’t believe you. I saw Gellert yesterday.”

“Yester- Ariana, how long do you think you’ve been here.”

“Not long. Abe went to get some things, he said he’d be back in a bit. And I tell you he won’t be happy to find a stranger in our house.”

He’d never really liked Aberforth. But right now, no matter how much he wanted to be mad at him, he honestly understood. He wouldn’t want a constant reminder of that night either.

There was a sudden thump and a set of orders being curtly yelled.

Gellert parted the curtains and saw three men who were unmistakably aurors.

“I have to go.”

“Wait! Gellert, wait.”

“Oh, you believe me now?”

“If I do, I’ve been alone in the dark for a long time. Take me with you.”

“I can’t. I need to run.”

“Please.”

Gellert hesitated. This was an extremely bad idea. This was one of the worst ideas he’d had in quite some time, and the competition was strong.

He sighed and picked up the portrait. The extension charm he’d cast on his bag became rather useful when he placed it inside.

He heard someone break down the door and Disaparated. No splices, this time. Not bad.


	9. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're overcompensating the full month hiatus with a few hundred extra words because screw consistence   
I'm flying solo on this one because stuff, so feedback is most appreciated, and needed

Albus dismissed his students and packed his notes. Waving his wand, the small mushrooms returned to their original shapes as dinner plates and hovered obediently into the cabinets.

He turned to find Elena, Thomas, and Ariel next to his desk. Ariel’s presence he understood. They’d just had a class and rare was the day they didn’t stop by to ask an outstandingly specific question in the midst of their O.W.L study sessions. But Elena and Thomas wouldn’t have a class with him for two more days.

They didn’t seem to care much about that, though.

“So?” Ariel started.

“So what?” he asked, confused.

“Come on, Professor Dumbledore, everyone’s read the paper. Is it true? Did Mr. Grindelwald really escape?” Elena’s tone started relaxed, but throughout the sentence, it became a hurried hush.

“He did.”

“Did you do it?” Ariel asked.

“What? No! I had nothing to do with it.” He looked around and waved his wand, closing the door. “You can’t go around saying that, Graves, you’ll get me arrested.”

“Sorry. But we heard the Patronus was a phoenix. And everyone knows that’s your patro-” Albus looked away from the three of them and Ariel gasped, “Oh.”

“Oh, what?” Thomas asked

“Nothing. The newspapers were wrong. We should’ve known a Hogwarts professor wouldn’t commit a crime. That’d be reckless.”

“So, you didn’t help him?” Thomas raised his eyebrow at him, “I thought you were against the conviction.”

“I am. But against the ministry, I have no authority. Not outside this school.”

“Hm.” Elena considered, “Well, we just wanted to tell you it was a good decision. But, since you didn’t have anything to do with it, I guess there’s nothing to do.”

“I believe so, yes. Now, if you don’t mind, I have too many essays to correct for tomorrow, and you have better things to do than socialize with your professor. Shall we?”

The three students left the room in front of him, and Elena and Thomas started discussing the birthday party of a boy in their class.

Ariel stopped for a bit:

“He cast a Patronus charm without a wand?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Must’ve been quite a happy memory.”

They left before Albus could answer. He hadn’t thought of it like that.

He didn’t really have time to, either, because when he opened his office door, he found three Aurors inside, rummaging through his desk drawers.

“Gentleman,” he announced himself, “If you truly want to help me correct my students’ homework, be my guests. But you might grab a quill or two in the process. Makes the job slightly easier.”

“Dumbledore. Cut the crap.” Ah. An American. Albus didn’t really know why they were still involved, but it did change things up every now and then. After all, how dreadful it would be if one’s continuous persecution became _boring_.

This man was new, but quite clearly in charge of the other two. He had the look of someone who believed everything he was doing was righteous, regardless of what it was. Albus sighed. Those were the easy ones to deal with.

“Where is he?”

“How should I know?” Albus moved to sit behind his desk, clearing the rummaged papers and picking up a pen to start marking them, “He’s not in my pocket, that much I can tell you, everything else… well, I’m afraid I can’t help.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“The truth? Yes, rather. I think we’d all be quite worried if you chose to believe something else.”

“Do you think this is funny?”

“I’m not laughing, Mr…”

“Williamson”

“Right.”

“_Where is he.” _ The man punched Albus’ desk, knocking over a box of sherbet lemon all over his books.

“I don’t know. Next time, maybe you should keep a closer eye on the people you plan to kill.”

“You’re covering for him. He’s a terrorist. He was on trial for that.”

“No. He was convicted for using magic. Though I’d hardly call that a trial.” He sat back, expression as relaxed as he could muster, and joined his fingers, looking up at the auror defiantly,

“I don’t know where he is. And quite frankly, after your terrible manners, I’m not sure I’d tell you even if I did.” He smiled.

“Now, if you don’t mind. I am still a teacher, which means I have work to do, the door is that way.”

Williamson’s face told him clear as day that if he didn’t have to deal with the consequences, he’d already have an unforgivable with Albus’ name on it.

But he was righteous, so he curtly told his men to retreat and slammed the door on his way out.

Albus sighed, slumping with relief as the knot in his throat dissolved.

He rubbed his eyes and called on Fawkes.

The bird landed on his arm and nuzzled him. He petted the bright feathers:

“Go on, my friend, find him.”

With a flare, the creature was gone, and Albus rested his head on the back of the chair.

His mind drifted back to Ariel’s words.

_Quite a happy memory._

What _had _Gellert thought about to do such powerful magic?

\----------------

“Are you going to explain it to me or should I guess?”

“What?” Gellert stoked the fire a bit before resting his back on a tree stump.

Ariana’s portrait was balanced on his bag, and inside she sat cross legged on the floor, her elbows on her knees, her hands supporting her face:

“What happened… afterwards.”

“You don’t want to know.” He shook his head.

The girl pouted:

“Please? I just want to understand how on Earth you ended freezing in a forest in Switzerland.”

“Sweden.”

“That.”

“Alright, but it’s a long story.”

“Do I look like I can go anywhere?”

So, he told her. All of it. The good, the bad, the real. He told her about the pendant, and their plans, about how Albus and him had planned to leave and take the world, and maybe bring her along and keeping her safe.

He told her about the stolen wand and the beginning of his empire. He even told her about Scamander and Credence.

“I think you’d like him. He reminded me of you in some ways. A kind soul.”

“He died.” She reckoned.

“Yes.”

He moved to the duel. And how he’d been so tired, so broken after he felt Albus destroy their pact. How angry he’d been, how much he wanted him to pay for it, and how he forgot all of it when he saw the man himself.

It had been the two of them against the world. And then the world had gotten in the way. And it became the two of them against each other.

And then he told her about his first sentence. About Hogwarts. About the night chats and the classes, the study sessions and the quiet dinners, Hogsmeade and Christmas break. 

And if Ariana noticed the faint smile on his lips when he brought up how he’d liked to teach the children, she kept it to herself.

And then he took a deep breath. And he told her about the rescue, and the trial. And finally, the vision.

“Then what are you doing here, you need to warn everyone.”

“Ariana, did you hear a word I said? They’ll never trust me!”

“But- But you’re telling the truth.” She looked pained.

“I am.”

“Well, you have to make them trust you.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“Did I say it would be?”

Gellert’s answer was cut short by the fire moving. From it emerged a golden bird that took up place on Gellert’s extended arm.

“Fawkes.”

“Fawkes?” Ariana strained her neck, trying to see, and Gellert moved Fawkes closer to her. “The one you said belonged to my brother”

“He does. Albus sent him to find me.”

“See? It might not be easy, but you’re not alone.”

Gellert took a quill and some parchment from his bag but stopped before he wrote anything.

“What if they intercept Fawkes”

“Can they?”

“If they’re surveilling Albus.”

“Then you should send him something only he will understand.”

Gellert scribbled something and tied it around Fawkes’ neck with a small string.

“Be careful. Find him.”

Fawkes disappeared again, and Gellert stretched.

He stopped mid movement.

“What did you say?” He turned to Ariana, eyes wide.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Not now, earlier. You said I had to make them believe in me.”

“I’m fairly certain I said trust, but yes, do go on.”

“I used to, um…convince my followers of my way by showing them my visions. I had this enchanted skull.”

“You do realize that an enchanted human skull will not make anyone believe you. If anything, it’ll do the opposite.”

“The important part wasn’t the skull, I used because- well, because it was dramatic enough. What made it work was the enchantment I put in it.”

“Hm, alright. Where is it?” Ariana smiled, excited at the prospect of adventure. Gellert suddenly realized how wonderful things might’ve been if they had gone away, and if they had taken her with them. Maybe it could’ve worked. He and Albus could’ve found something to help her, and things might’ve ended well. If only… 

“Gellert? Where is it?”

He focused again:

“Oh, it doesn’t exist anymore. It was destroyed.”

“What?”

“Paris, 1927. A horrible year, really.”

“If it was destroyed, what was the point of this conversation?” She asked, lips pursed.

“Like I said, the important bit was the enchantment.”

“Do you remember it?”

“No-”

“You have to be joking.” Ariana sighed

“-but, let me finish. I know where I saw it the first time. At my old school.” It was his turn to smile. Things might finally be looking up.

“And you’re planning on what, going back for it? Do you even remember where Durmstrang is?”

“A student never forgets.” He grinned. Durmstrang might’ve not made hi happy, but it had certainly been useful.

Ariana’s eyes widened:

“Is that why we’re here?”

“Partly. Nobody outside the school knows the location, and we spent years learning about the creatures around us and how to orient ourselves in this forest. Whoever chases me here will be at a severe disadvantage.”

He put out the fire and picked up his bag.

“Oh, you’re going to throw me inside the bag again, aren’t you?” she frowned.

“I must. You’re not what one would call travel-size.”

Gellert walked out of the small clearing they’d been in. Not far off he heard a rumbling and saw silvery scales in the moonlight. A Short-Snout. He remembered sneaking away from his dormitory to go find them as a boy, and subsequently getting in trouble.

“I feel home already.” He mocked.


	10. Durmstrang and Missives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii  
So, these last few chapters have been a bit slower, and so will this one, I'm afraid. So to the people who told me I needed to pick up the pace, I apologize, but this isn't it, just yet :-/  
Yet.  
I hope you enjoy it nonetheless, and leave a comment, because those always make me happy <3

“Gellert! Gellert, I know you can hear me. Gellert, I want to see what’s happening. GELLERT.”

He sighed. With a flick of his wand, a large portrait flew out of his bag:

“Ariana,the entire point of sneaking into a place is to go unnoticed, _you are not helping.”_

“I want to see!”

“There’s nothing to see, it’s a large wall.”

She pouted.

“Fine” he sighed. He conjured up a small frame, no larger than his hand, “Do you think you can walk into this? “

She frowned, concentrating. She then got up and walked to the edge of her portrait, hopping into the smaller one.

“Oh, that was weird! I didn’t know I could do that.”

Gellert placed the small portrait in the front pocket of his coat, leaving her to peer over his chest.

He then searched for the one bush that covered the secret passage into the school. He found the iron grid and moved it out of the way.

He hadn’t been back since his expulsion, and the place was making him uncomfortable. He might've boasted about how amazing his school was, but he’d never been happy here.

The library was down a long hallway, riddled with students. He masked himself as one of them and walked as if he belonged there. His hands shook when he pushed the door open.

There was no restricted section at Durmstrang. All was allowed, and because of that, all was available. But everyone had their limits.

There was a chest. A heavy wooden chest where the “infractions” were hidden. The infractions were anything the faculty deemed inappropriate for their students to delve into. It was a short list. Gellert had managed to cross out most of it.

There was a thrill to it. Sneaking around school at night, seeking forbidden knowledge, wondering. It took him back to his youth.

The chest was protected against regular unlocking charms. And since the last time he’d been in front of it, regardless of how much he’d learned, he hadn’t learned the spell to open it.

He had, however, learned a thing or two about people.

And from what he remembered of the librarian, there was a very good chance they left the key- Gellert opened a small decorative drawer on the side of the desk- precisely where nobody would expect you to keep something valuable.

“Touché”

There was more than books inside, but the books made up the bulk of the chest. Most of them were inside because of him, though he allowed himself to feel a pang of pride at whoever made “A History of Noble Magical Houses” an infraction. What could one even do with that?

“Oh, what’s that?” Ariana spoke from over his pocket, he’d almost forgotten she was there.

It took him a bit to find where she was pointing, but when he did, a small smile played at his lips.

“This is one of mine. “

Inside the small leather-bound notebook, swirly cursive and intricate diagrams filled the pages, peppered with small sketches of flowers, piles of books, other people, and flashes of things he’d seen in his visions. The blunt tip of a quill had scratched a small symbol in the cover

The Deathly Hallows

Gellert wasn’t stupid, he was aware that his experiments were taking things too far. One doesn’t get expelled from Durmstrang over nothing. But he couldn’t help the thought they it was _fun. _Not the people who got hurt. That was unfortunate, but he’d learned early on the meaning of _collateral damage. _What he missed was the curiosity, the testing, seeing how far his magic could go, how far all magic could go, what it could do. Do things just to see if they worked. The thrill of finding out things, collateral damage be damned.

“It’s pretty.” Ariana’s voice brought him back. And suddenly a different voice played in Gellert’s head. A different Dumbledore. Voice broken and disappointed, tired of hoping for the best, learning to expect the worse.

_Collateral Damage? _He’d asked, on an afternoon that felt years ago.

Gellert thought that maybe the price of ambition was too much every now and then.

She was looking at a sketch of a small bird. From it, ink flames burst. Gellert didn’t remember Seeing that, but he assumed he must’ve, since it resembled a certain Phoenix he’d come into contact some time after drawing it.

He leafed through the pages, his school days playing in front of his eyes. He finally stopped. A skull filled two of the pages. Small sigils covering its surface, and an annotation in the bottom of the page. It mentioned a book, yes, but...

“Oh Scheiße.”

“What is it?” Ariana frowned. She didn’t understand the language, but a sketch of the exact thing they were looking for seemed like a good thing.

“The book _was_ here. But I knew that after I used it they’d hide it, so I stole it first.”

“Where is it now,then?”

Gellert thought back. It was where everything from the earlier days was:

“In the hands of one Vinda Rosier.” He sighed.

“Excuse me, I need to check out a book.” A voice spoke above his head.

Disguise in place, he got up to see a brown haired boy, ink smudges on his hands, a quill worrying his chin, his eyes never lifting from his book. Gellert had the feeling he could’ve performed one of his speeches and the boy would’ve kept looking down.

Well, maybe not, he was rather good at speeches.

“What book did you need?” he smiled.

“Magick moste Evile”, he made a small note on the margin of the page and finally looked up, “the earliest edition you have.”

Gellert raised an eyebrow, and glanced down at the chest. There was a first edition inside, uncensored, and he looked back at the boy,who was smiling positively angelically at him. Ah, he knew the type.

Gellert reached into the chest and pulled out the book:

“A word of advice-”

“Let me guess, don’t push it.”

“Merlin, no. Push it as far as you want. Just” he glanced at the notebook “learn when it’s time to stop. Once you go too far, some things can’t be undone.”

He closed the chest and turned to leave, placing the key on the counter.

The boy looked at it, then at him. Gellert pushed the door open and left with a smile.

“Gellert, do you know what ‘mixed signals’ mean?” Ariana judged.

“Knowledge isn’t bad, Ariana, not inherently.” He shrugged, “Besides, I’m not a complete idiot” he smiled, and hugged the sudden pile of books on his arms, “the worst ones I brought as souvenirs.”

She chuckled. Then:

“So, this Rosier woman… isn’t she the one who invaded Hogwarts? Didn’t you cause her imprisonment… twice?”

“Yes. I did. I’m rather looking forward to the reunion. Aren’t you?”

\------------

The moment Dumbledore left the classroom, he rushed to his office. He’d been in the middle of an explanation, surrounded by newly sentient hedgehogs, that had previously been cotton balls, when a flash of light was visible out the window. Fawkes had a small piece of parchment tied to his neck,and Albus had suppressed a smile for the rest of the class.

The bird flew to his arm as soon as he pushed the door open. Albus locked the door behind him, and untied the roll, it was marked with a small triangle containing a circle and a thin line.

“Dear Albus,

I’ve been meaning to write for some time. I’m in desperate need of help with my book.”

_Hold on, book?_

“You see, Hogwarts has a fascinating history, and the best way to learn about it is to speak to those who live it, but I suppose you wouldn’t care to visit an old hag in a village at the end of the world.”

So he was writing as Bathilda. Not a bad cover. Albus didn’t understand why. Fawkes couldn’t be intercepted, could he?

He noticed a cluster of feathers ruffled around the bird's neck, as if someone had yanked the letter away.

A necessary precaution, then. It was quite the low blow, but quite frankly, he wasn’t surprised.

“I’ve thought of traveling. My wondering keeps bringing me to my younger years. There are some amends I’d like to make to those, maybe I can, one day. Alas, right now there are more pressing matters at hand. I would like to join you for tea, soon, my dear, but I fear I might not find the time. Writing this book was a promise. I made a promise, Albus. And I do not break my promises, you know that. Better than anyone.

I heard the news, I’m sorry, I hope you’re safe. May we see each other again.”

Albus had a knot in his throat.

_“I made a promise.” _

He sighed. He had the feeling Gellert was going to do something incredibly stupid.

He shivered, suddenly feeling observed.

Albus locked his bedroom door once inside and closed the curtains with a wave of his wand.

He considered sending a response to Gellert’s letter, but decided against it. He waited inside, pacing back and forth.

Once he was sure nobody was watching, he crossed his office to Gellert’s room.

There was a suitcase in the floor. Inside, Albus found a pile of sketches, and laid them out on the floor.

Outside, the sun was setting. Albus closed the curtains, it was only dinner he was missing, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I know how magical portraits work? No  
Is that going to stop me from using them to my advantage? Also no


	11. Choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day out of schedule but we're back!!! Yes, we, because the lovely Nina is back on the wagon, being as wonderful as always  
Happy pride, by the way  
Enjoy the extra 2k words  
;-)

When Albus came to, it was because the rising sun shone through the windows and right at his face. He blinked the sleep away and stretched. Somewhere, something inside him cracked. He grimaced.

“Serves you right.” He mumbled to himself, “You’re getting too old for sleepless nights of research.”

Albus ran his hands through his hair and looked at his “research”.

The hardwood floor of the bedroom was no longer visible under the dozens of sketches laid out on it. Gellert hadn’t actually told him what he was drawing. Just that it helped him process the vision, so it was up to Albus to find out what all of them meant. He’d figured out some of the objects. There were important relics of some of Hogwarts’ founders, a book, and a ring. The ring looked familiar for some reason, but Albus couldn’t quite place it, not now.

He grouped it with the other four. Horcruxes. He was sure that’s what they were for.

He held the sketch of Nagini.

He hadn’t heard anything from her since…he didn’t even remember.

No. He did.

He couldn’t forget the shrilling scream she’d let out as Credence’s lifeless body hit the floor.

It made sense she’d side with Riddle. After all, there’d be something very wrong with her if she didn’t want Albus dead after what he and his war had done to her true love.

He set her aside and picked up a landscape: a big house on a hill. Future headquarters, maybe? Hunting ground?

There was really nothing he could say about it, or about any of the following pages.

In the center of it all was a boy. Gellert had drawn him over and over again. On different stages of his childhood, but unmistakably the same person. Unless there was a coming legion of lightning scarred children.

He looked again. Seeing something his sleep deprivation had clouded from him.

Not lightning.

It was too neat for lightning. But it was just clear enough to be…

“The killing curse.” He gasped.

But it couldn’t be, could it? The boy had that scar throughout his life, that wasn’t possible. Nobody survived-

There was a last sketch. An old house in Godric’s Hollow. Empty for as long as Albus remembered. Not there, though. In the page, it was brimming with life. Blossoming flowers cloaked the outer walls, a sleepy cat lounged by the gate, and a young couple cooed at a baby.

Albus looked closer.

No scar.

The earliest sketched of the boy was neatly placed next to the one with the happy family.

Same boy, no scar.

Albus blinked, realization dawning on him. Something terrible was going to happen.

He made a mental note to check his books on blood magic. He was sure he’d read something useful there.

Sitting on the bed, he sighed. Regardless of how much he found, nobody would believe him. Nobody with power, anyway. He groaned:

“It’s not right! There has to be another way! If only I could make them see, if I could sho-”

His eyes widened. He could show them.

He understood three things in rapid succession:

Everything might not be lost after all, he needed some files form the ministry, and he might be able to fix all of this.

He finally knew what Gellert was trying to do. It was the only way, which meant that there was a limited number of places he could go.

Everything might not be lost, but Gellert was in fact going to do something incredibly stupid. And whichever place he chose to go was going to, in the very least, eat him alive.

He ran out into his office and searched for his stash of Floo Powder.

He needed help. Someone on the ministry. Or close. Newt could help.

No. Someone who the ministry actually liked. Someone with three different employment offers.

He set the box down and headed to Minerva’s office.

\--------------

“I don’t like this…” Whispered Ariana. “It’s…there’s something weird about it.”

“It’s enchanted. A Fidelius charm” he whispered back, clicking the front door open.

The Rosier Estate had seen better days. The outer walls weren’t scorched like in some other houses. There were no broken windows. But it was… Dead.

It had been their safehouses at one point. Before he settled at Nurmengard. He’d made sure it was in fact safe.

“How did you get to the secret keeper after so long?”

Gellert smiled. Ariana had been fourteen at the time of her death. She hadn’t attended any schools, but her time with Albus was spent with him fretting over books, so he’d read them aloud for her. Over time, it was one of the few things that calmed her, but Gellert never thought what he said (what they said, really. Sometimes, Albus would be asleep and he’d picked up the books instead) had stayed with her.

“My dear, I am the secret keeper. Nobody’s been here since the thirties, nobody’s had the time to change anything.”

“Huh.” She considered. “So, we’re looking for…books?”

“Yes.” They turned a corner into the library, “But not these.”

In one of the rooms at the end of the hallway, the door was locked. Gellert tapped the lock and it melted.

“There has to be an easier way to do that.” Ariana chided.

Gellert didn’t look at her, but he could _hear_ the raised eyebrow in her tone. It was a distinctive Dumbledore trait. Albus would speak to him like that sometimes.

“It’s not about easy. It’s a matter of principles. I’m a consistent man.”

“Bloody dramatic, more like.”

Inside the room, Gellert moved with ease, even in the darkness, and he only lit his wand when he found what he was looking for.

Small blobs of blue light flew up as he set Ariana on the dresser, placing the bigger portrait next to her.

She stepped over as he brought up a wooden box full of old books.

“Is that- Gellert, is that blood?” she pointed at the one in his hand. The blue leather was stained with something faintly red. Gellert didn’t answer, instead he opened the book, from where a high-pitched whistle came out, forcing him to close it again.

Then came a green one. This one, unlike what Ariana could see from the others, had a title, written in gold.

“Prophecies? No.” he waved off.

Finally, Gellert smiled at a page. The red volume had loose pages and ink blots, as well as notes crowding the margins, but in the middle was a title in big letters

The Art of Prophetic Seeing.

Gellert leafed through the pages until he found the right chapter, and then the smile vanished.

“Again? Come on!”

There were pages missing. Ripped out, their remnants seemingly mocking him.

“I think you might be looking for this, non?” said a feminine voice, a voice he knew too well to not curse under his breath.

Gellert froze in place, thinking of his next move. His eyes shifted over to Ariana’s portrait. She was as still as him, eyes closed, leaning against a tree in the background. Smart girl.

Finally, he turned:

“Rosier! What a pleasant surprise.” His last word was said through a grimace. She had a burn on her neck. Red bruised marks of silver ropes. He remembered casting one of those during the attack.

“Is it? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

Alright. So, he did do that. Plan B.

“Ma chére,” He smiled “I am so terribly sorry for your troubles. You did ever so wonderfully.” He got closer and gripped her hands reassuringly. A calculated risk.

She flipped them around and stuck her wand on his back. Seconds later, the knife previously hidden on her boot pressed against his throat.

He was never all that good at calculating risks.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw Ariana quickly close her eyes again, fidgety.

“Is that a way to welcome me home? After all the theatre I had to put up all these months and this is your greeting? I’m wounded.” He tried to dodge the wand, or the knife. Neither worked.

“No, you’re not. But you will be. You owe us an explanation.”

“Well, I think we all do, don’t we? I’d me delighted to learn how you escaped Nurmengar-” The knife pressed deeper.

“You first. We tried to save you! To rescue you! And you turned on us! What happened to the greater good?”

“You did a brilliant job, but I needed more time. I was…If only you had waited…” He threw the bait, waiting

She eased her grip turning him around to face her. The knife and wand still too close.

“More- more time?” she frowned.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Gellert straightened up and fought the urge to smile.

“In case you have forgotten, our goals are largely more attainable with certain commodities. We need the Elder wand. The most powerful wand. Albus Dumbledore took it from me. I want it back.”

Gellert watched her thought process on her face, leaping around until it landed on how could she ever have doubted him, their leader, who’d promised them the world.”

Deeply committed. He’d heard her say, once. He was perfectly comfortable with taking advantage of that.

“They are waiting for you.” She said, finally, lowering her wand, and sheathing her knife again.

Gellert’s smile wavered:

“They are?”

“I wouldn’t leave alone, would I?” she smiled, “We even kept it out of the news.”

“G-Good.”

She handed him the pages:

“Shall we? Our leader is back, after all, there’s no time to lose.”

Gellert felt very much like a recovering alcoholic being offered a bottle of whiskey. He reached for his wand and felt a familiar rush under his skin. The marks on his wrists halted his movements. They hadn’t worked in months, since the attack. Albus had willed them not to, but the burns had stayed. A stark reminder.

Albus.

Albus would hate him for this. It would destroy him. But Gellert was doing this for him, after all. The sight of his disappointed expression was followed by the Sight of him falling, one last time. He could deal with Albus’ hate. He could deal with never seeing him again, with rotting away in a dark cell, as long as Albus was alive.

That was the greater good.

Gellert took Vinda’s arm.

“NO!” Ariana screamed.

Vinda turned to her for the first time. Skimming her memory of her family, she came to the conclusion that Gelllert had brought her with him.

“Gellert, please, don’t do this-“

“Who is she?”

“No-one. A souvenir.” Gellert said coldly.

His heart broke at the girl’s desperation, still pleading with him. He waved his wand and her screams turned silent.

Ariana grabbed at her throat, still calling out to him. Silent no’s and crying please’s as he vanished her from the room and Apparated with Vinda.

\----

Ariana stopped seeing Gellert as he was replaced by a blur, and then she was in a tavern.

Small, badly lit, with an old wooden plaque over the counter that read

The Hog’s Head

From the back room came a red-haired man in his sixties.

Ariana called out to her brother Abe, but no sound left her mouth.


	12. Divide and Conquer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, again  
Here's a little something to start your week properly ;-)  
Thanks again to the lovely Nina, who helps so much <3

“Albus, I can’t do it.” Minerva was pacing in her office. She’d gotten up off her chair not long after Albus started his explanation.

“Please, Minerva, I know it’s a lot to ask, I understand, but-”

“No, Albus, you don’t.” she cut him short “It’s not that I don’t_ want_ to help, I quite literally cannot! I don’t have influence in the Ministry.”

“I know. You have something better: Their favor.” He countered.

“What?” She blinked, looking at Albus like he was crazy.

“Minerva, you are the star student of Hogwarts-”

“Riddle was the star student of Hogwarts.”

“Riddle was an underdog story. You are one of the only people I’ve ever met to have the Ministry throwing themselves at your feet and have the nerve to send them off.”

“That’s a bit conceited, isn’t it? Considering the other person to do that, lately, was you?” She smirked; arms crossed.

“Besides the point.” He waved off.

“I have full intentions of spending some time working at the Ministry, Albus. In fact, I was going to accept their offer before you called on me. Do not. Ruin this. For me.” She stopped pacing and sighed “What is it that you need?” She finally caved in.

“Files.” He stated, smiling.

“F-Files?” Minerva froze on her way back to her chair.

“Not just any file. An incident report of a certain night in September 1927. A cooperation between the British Ministry of Magic, the Magical congress of the United States of America, and the Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France.” He smiled. “Sounds familiar?”

“No. I’ve never heard of it.”

“Precisely.”

“So, you want me to charm my way through the ministry in order to get a secret file from before I was born?”

Very few people could put so much chiding in a single arched brow as Minerva McGonagall.

“Yes. That is exactly it.” He nodded

“Because that doesn’t look suspicious to you.”

“That’s why I asked _you._”

“Fine, alright. But…Why do you need it?”

Albus considered lying. It was a reflex at this point. But what was the point of lying to Minerva? Then again, if she was ever caught, he’d rather she’d be safely ignorant, rather than put in a difficult position. In the end, he compromised:

“Gellert is going to do something rash. And dangerous. And- well, and arguably stupid.”

“Albus, I think you’ve forgotten the purpose of a question. Usually, one expects to learn new information, not something an eight-year-old could guess.” And there came the eyebrow again.

“I-”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Minerva opened it slightly, suspicious:

“Graves? Merlin’s beard, what happened to you, you look like you ran the marathon.”

“The what?”

“Nevermind, muggle thing. What are you doing here?”

“Him! I need to talk to him.” They pointed inside the room and Minerva opened the door wider.

Ariel looked like they’d been running for their life. They had mud on their shoes and the end of their robes, and the bits of hair that weren’t stuck to their forehead were covered in leaves.

“You have a bloody weird family, did you know that?”

Albus teacup needed a reparo spell, and Minerva’s carpet would need some cleaning.

There was a lot that Ariel could’ve meant when they said that. But Albus wasn’t happy with anyone knowing any of it.

“What- um…” he cleared his throat, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Ariel took a seat by the desk after Minerva forced them to leave the shoes at the door, “Your brother could learn to not cheese off so much, for one.”

They started picking the leaves off their hair, “And your sister should really learn some manners. I understand urgency, but some things are just plain rude.” They huffed, seemingly ignoring the small panic attack they had induced with the word _sister._

“My- My sister? I don’t think I understand, Graves.”

“Blond teen, pretty violets in her hair, big portrait on the Hog’s Head mantle?”

“I- I didn’t know there was a portrait.”

“Well, Mr. Dumbledore didn’t seem to know either. I took Anna there for a drink and he was arguing with it. Well, with her, but she couldn’t argue back. He was going to send us away, but she signed and I answered. Hold on, I wrote it down.”

As they patted the pockets of their robes, Albus mulled over their words.

“Wait a second. Ariana never learned British sign language.”

In hindsight it would have been a good idea. She spent days, sometimes weeks, without talking. A different way to communicate with her might’ve made things easier. Alas, he’d never thought of it. He’d heard stories of portraits evolving, but an entirely new language? It couldn’t be.

“Oh, it wasn’t British.” Ariel was still rummaging through their pockets, “She was signing in German.”

Albus choked something back, unsure if it was a sob or a laugh. _German sign language, of course Gellert__ thought of that._

He still caught part of the explanation about Ariel’s stepmother, and their insistence on learning it. And then they handed him a piece of parchment.

“I’m not sure of what it means, but she said it was a matter of life and death.”

“Thank you, Graves.”

They nodded:

“I’ll- I’ll let myself out, then. And, uhm- good luck.”

Minerva looked over his shoulder, reading the scribbled sentences, and she gasped, covering her mouth with her hands, her shaky legs taking her to her chair.

_Gellert is alive, he is with Rosier. He wants to save Albus from the future and won’t stop. You must stop them. He did it because he needs the world to trust him. He wants to show them the vision. Not like this. Please. People will die if he goes back._

“Well, Minerva. I hate to say that I told you so, but-”

“I’ll get you the damned file, Albus.” She snapped, still shaking. “Did you know?”

“I…assumed. Suspected.” Her eyes widened, but he quickly added, “I only found out today.”

“Well, then, I guess I have work to do.” She sighed, heading to the fireplace, “Oh, and Albus?”

He looked up.

“I don’t know what happened, but that reaction isn’t normal at the mere mention of family. Go talk to your brother.”

“I- “

“It wasn’t a suggestion. Grindelwald has something to do with all of you. And he’s in trouble. Fix it, or all our efforts will be for nothing.”

He nodded, defeated. Albus was good at arguing, but there was not much to do against raw logic.

“And on the way, find something for the carpet, will you?” she smiled, trying to lighten the mood.

It didn’t work. Albus suspected she wasn’t fully expecting it to. He still chuckled slightly before she stepped into the green flames.

Ten minutes later, Albus took a deep breath and looked at the sign on the door. Then at the muggle sign language dictionary under his arm.

He knocked.

\----------

As Vinda unlocked the door, Gellert was greeted with silence. He’d had only a few moments to think of an explanation, but he was confident that they’d believe him.

He cleared his throat and then…something strange happened. He knew the words, he felt himself talking, but there was something…detached about it. He’d learned a word from Charlotte while helping her with Muggle Studies. “Automatic.” She’d explained. When something works on its own, without needing any physical guidance.

That’s what Gellert felt. As if something else had taken the helm of his actions, and he was just, accomplishing them, _automatically._

And then it was over again. And they were still silent.

But something had changed.

The silence when he’d entered had been dangerous, like he needed to run far away from there. Everyone in the room was moments away from drawing their wands, from binding him and making sure he paid for his treason.

Now, however; the room was solemn. The doubt was still there, but it was overshadowed for their faith. Because of course he’d return.

Gellert wasn’t entirely sure what he’d said, but he knew he’d played with their faith in him, it was the easiest way.

“Well then,” He said, straightening up, and weary eyes fixed on him, “We have work to do.”

He suppressed a shiver at their reverence. They immediately did what he told them. No incessant questions of_ why is it done like this, Mr. Grindelwald, _no accusations of being _bloody dramatic_, or silent _really Gellert, dear? _from raised eyebrows. He suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable. This wasn’t right, it wasn’t-

Realization hit him.

It wasn't _home._

He picked the furthest room in whoever’s mansion they were and locked the door. And he screamed. Granted, he did so into a pillow, but he yelled, and cursed, and cried.

No.

This was temporary.

He just had to get to used to it for a bit.

He pushed away the image of Ariana’s distressed face and silent screams.

“Rosier.” He called, walking out of the room

“Yes, sir? The woman seemingly materialized in front of him.

“I need the pages you took.”

“Oh.” She pulled them form her coat pocket, “Why- um, why do you need them?”

“There’s something there I lost a long time ago. I need a way to replicate it.”

“Of course.” She nodded and turned away.

“Vinda?” he extended his hand.

“Yes?” she looked at his hand, then back at his face, a frown forming at the unusual use of her given name.

“My wand.” He nodded at her right hand, where Albus’ old wand was clasped between deep red fingernails.

“Oh, right.”

She handed him the wand and left again.

Alright, then. Dumbledores out of sight. And out of heart (right, clearly). He had work to do.


	13. HIATUS WARNING

Sooo, here's the thing, in about a month I'm taking exams that will determine whether or not I get into college, which means I have to study.  
That doesn't mean I'll necessarily stop writing, but it does mean I can't write and edit 1k words in one week, and right now I need as little pressure as possible. To all the people who have been reading and commenting I love you with all my heart and I'm sorry to make you wait, but fear not, for this is not goodbye.   
Nina and I will be back to sharing this story as soon as life gets less crazy (hopefully by August we'll be back)  
So, until then, thank you for the support, you are amazing 💜💜


	14. Planning (and then some)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it is not, in fact, august  
Heh  
but, better late than never, right?  
I decided to not erase the previous "chapter" mostly because i don't know if it would erase the comments pertaining to it, and they were far too sweet to be lost  
I did do very well in my exams for those interested, and that means I am now in college! yayy  
it also means consistecy in uploads is now definetly going out the window, so I think I'll see you when i see you? (I'll try for that to be as soon as possible tho, promise)  
THe Uneverse's biggest thnks to the wonderful Nina, who has been absolutely essential in creating this story, thank you love, you're the best <3  
I do hope you guys love this (very very very late) chapter and that you let me know if you do ;)

When Aberforth opened the door seconds after Albus was done knocking, something inside Ariana softened. Maybe this situation had made Aberforth give him another chance, maybe they could fix things, and she could have her brothers back.

Or not.

He’d clearly been expecting someone else, because as soon as he laid eyes on Albus, he moved to shut the door again.

“Abe, please.” Albus grabbed the door before he could close it, “She needs our help.”

“Of course, because you care so much about helping her.” Aberforth scoffed.

“I always have.” He tried to counter, pushing the door open a bit more.

Aberforth didn’t answer. After a few moments he let go of the door and walked to the mantle. Albus followed him.

Ariana was sitting in her portrait, twirling a small violet in her fingers. Around her laid dozens more of the flowers, and she was facing them, although she wasn’t really looking at anything in particular.

When Aberforth cleared his throat, she looked at them and smiled softly, waving at Albus and scooting closer to the edge of the portrait.

The two men refused to look at each other as they sat by her portrait, and she didn’t miss it. And she made sure they didn’t miss her pout and crossed arms.

Still, she had a task to accomplish and so she started her story.

It didn’t last long.

Albus and Abe were both checking the book Al had brought with him. And they tried to understand what she was saying, but it was rather frustrating.

She gave up on the story and sighed.

“I don’t understand. Why can’t she talk?” Abe turned to his brother.

“I don’t know.” _I have a fairly good suspicion though, _he didn’t say. But he looked at Ariana and she didn’t deny it.

The small moment of silent communication didn’t go unnoticed by Aberforth.

He’d never been the brightest sibling but he quickly put two and two together and his eyes widened:

“No! It can’t be! Ari, who did this to you?”

She didn’t answer. Looking away, her hands folded in her lap, lips pursed.

It was all the answer Abe needed.

“Unbelievable!” He got up, pacing around the empty tavern, “You would think- you’d _think, _that after more than fifty years and a bloody war, we could be free of him. You’d think he was done ruining everything. But no, no, because you,” He pointed an accusatory finger at Albus, who still sat in his chair, seemingly undisturbed, “you had to run in and drag him into our lives again. You just couldn’t help yourself.”

“Aberforth.” He all but hissed. Ariana flinched at the tone and even Aberforth took a small step back, his expression softening into apprehension.

Albus took a second, visibly reigning in whatever had been close to jumping out of the surface, and when he spoke again, it was calm, diplomatic:

“You don’t know the whole story.”

“I know what the papers published.”

“Precisely.”

“I shouldn’t really be surprised, should I? You’ve always taken his side.”

“I’m not-”

“He’s a murderer. A terrorist, Albus. He caused a war do you at least understand that? How can you be on his side after- after what he did to her!”

Albus was about to yell something back when they heard something from the mantle top.

They were both staring at her, jaws parted. She straightened up and signed something slowly. Albus checked the book again.

“My…my turn.” He mumbled “Your turn?”

She nodded and signed again. Five letters.

“Ariel?”

“Isn’t that the kid who was here earlier? The one who wrote the note?”

“Yes, Ariel Graves, they’re one of my students.” He turned to Ariana, “Do you want me to go get them?”

Ariana nodded again and sat back down, waiting.

“I mean, I can’t- I can’t just go and take a student out of class.” Albus was pleading to both of them. Abe didn’t seem to have an opinion on it. a clear indication that she couldn’t care less about what Al thought he could or couldn’t do.

“Fine. I’ll- I’ll try. Don’t go anywhere.”

Both his siblings raised an eyebrow in the exact same “And where exactly would we go?” way. Had anyone else been in the room, it would’ve turned into a lighthearted moment, because it was indistinguishable from Albus’ own frequent expression, but there wasn’t anyone else.

That was the point after all.

All these years later, and it still all came down to the four of them.

\------------

He was screwed.

Gellert considered himself a rather intelligent man, but, at present, this was beyond even him.

“Sir, you don’t have to show us your Visions. We’ve seen the proof.”

“Oh, I know.” He turned, still leaning on his desk. Grimmson and Ryen stood before him. Ryen and his brother Natt had recently been “persuaded” to join the Alliance. Natt had been in the attack and had imparted some doubts to his brother, so Gellert made a point to look at him as he continued, “I just want to make sure there are absolutely no questions about them.” He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. Ryen almost took a step back.

“Now, if you don’t mind, go fetch the items in the list. I trust you know where to find them.”

The two men left the room and Gellert could breathe again. It was a diversion. A list of the hardest things to find that he could come up with. They wouldn’t help. Very little could.

It was like the whole world had united to screw him over on this. First the book brought him here, and now, he couldn’t even perform the spell without going fully down the rabbit hole.

The last time he’d venture into this incantation, a fellow student had died. (of course, nobody mentioned he’d volunteer into it). That was the price. A life. To share a future, he had to take someone’s away. And now, he would have to do it again.

Gellert sighed, scratching at the sudden itch over his chest. Damn Albus and damn the Riddle boy! Everything was going so well!

\------------

“It’s a bad idea.” Ariel sat backwards on their chair, arms folded over the back, picking at a small ball of lint on their sleeve “It won’t work.”

“Graves, I sincerely appreciate your help but I don’t think this is any of your busine-”

“They’re right!” Minerva leaned against the wall. Graves looked at her and smiled.

Albus only sighed.

He’d tried to get Graves to come help, and luckily their class had been almost over.

The problem? Minerva had been teaching the class, and apparently, she’d gotten the files, so the situation was now out in the open. Well, not completely. She didn’t know the whole story. Graves, however, seemed to be getting more information from Ariana than he was comfortable with.

“Well, does anyone have a better idea?” He sighed, throwing his hands up “Since this is now a group decision apparently!” the second bit was mumbled and Ariana rolled her eyes, signing something that made Graves snort.

“What’d she say?”

“Nothing, nothing, don’t worry.”

His look was drawn from Ariana’s smug grin to Aberforth when he spoke.

“Really, any idea is better than putting yourself in front of a monster and bare your throat. Then again that’s nothing compared to what you’re used to baring to him.” He leaned ack in his chair, seemingly thinking he’d make a great point.

Minerva and Graves looked at each other as the talk had suddenly grown personal. Albus closed his eyes for a moment.

“Do you not have it in you to stop? This isn’t some social gathering; we need a plan.” Albus’ voice was calm. He was not.

Aberforth looked up at him:

“If you ask me, he brought this on himself. I never thought much of him, he spent the last decades proving me right.” He shrugged.

“You know, I honestly don’t think-”

“That’s the problem, you’re not thinking! Not with your head at least! You can keep chasing that maniac like a lost puppy all you want. But face it, Al, he. doesn’t. care!” Aberforth was standing now “He attacked the school! Your school! He keeps hurting us, all of us! He keeps making the same mistakes and you keep coddling him! He’s not some defenceless hostage! He chose to go, and you helped-“

“He didn’t!” Graves stepped between them.

Albus hadn’t even noticed when they’d gotten close. He unclenched his fist as they looked at him. Something told him this wasn’t the first fight they’d broken up.

“Professor Dumbledore didn’t get him out of the ministry.”

Albus realised what was happening and quickly weighed his options. Minerva was one thing. Merlin, even the children, he didn’t mind, but not Aberforth:

“Graves, don-”

“Grindelwald cast the Patronus himself.”

Abe looked from Graves to him and back. Albus’ stomach was suddenly in a knot.

Aberforth laughed humourlessly:

“That’s what you’re going on?”  
“Abe-”

“No. You’re willing to risk everything for a myth? Look what he did!” he pointed at Ariana’s portrait “The first time he found her and he hurt her. Again!”

Albus was about to answer when something dawned on him.

“Why _did _he find her?”

“What?”

Albus turned to Ariana:

“Where- where were you?”  
She signed something he recognised from the book, but he confirmed it with Graves nonetheless.

“Home.” They spoke barely over a whisper.

“She-“ He turned back to Aberforth. “You knew!”

“Yes.”

Albus took a deep breath. It came out shaky. Graves’ eyes were wide, so they _did_ know. Good.

They moved out of the way and pulled Minerva, who’d gotten closer, back as well. Albus waited until they were out of the room before continuing.

“All these years. All these years you blamed me. Barely looked at me. You accused me of not caring about her. Of abandoning her.” It was a hiss of rage. Realizations spoken through gritted teeth. “And all this time you knew she was there! You went back after the funeral, you saw her portrait, and you left her alone.”

Abe’s expressionless demeanour turned fidgety. He looked anywhere but at the portrait. And then he stopped looking at Albus too.

“You’ve been looking down at me from your moral high ground for_ fifty years_. And all this time, you could’ve saved what we had of her?”

Aberforth must’ve decided himself on something, for he looked up at his brother, holding his gaze.

“And?” he said, barely moving at all, his eyes cold with superiority.

Albus’ hand moved without him fully realizing it. In a split second his knuckles hurt, and Abe was stepping back, grabbing at his cheekbone.

“I’m going.” It wasn’t quite directed at Aberforth. Albus turned and apparated out. Leaving his siblings alone.


End file.
